


And maybe my heart will one day beat

by drunkbea



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bullying, Gen, Minor Violence, Misunderstandings, Robot Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkbea/pseuds/drunkbea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of one robot. The evolution of circuits into something more…human. Robot!Tsuna, Non-mafia AU. All27 friendship</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. and after creation, saving

It was meant to fail.

The very first step is a stumble and although it can, it doesn’t catch itself. The fall doesn’t actually hurt and from above, it hears its creators cheering. When it stand on shaky legs, fake tears leaking out of its eyes, they begin to give him a series of tests. It is as easy as breathing is for a human for it to fail—natural, unquestionable. They put it in a trail period for a week and after a week of tripping, flailing, loud protests, and failing, they declare it a success. 

Its name is Sawada Tsunayoshi, the first robot designed exclusively to fail.  
\--  
Standing in front of the class of vaguely interested students, it pretends to be nervous and ducks its head. By its estimations, the bullying would probably take three days to start. Its creators have made it highly aware of the importance of self-introductions. Mainly, in determining its place in the class ‘hierarchy’ so to speak. 

Wringing its hands, it begins.

It screws up Sawada Tsunayoshi’s self-introduction so badly there is only silence after it is done. It stutters, stammers, and the teacher asks it to speak louder a grand total of five times. Throughout, it hunches into itself, shaking slightly, and to top it all, it trips on the way to its seat—arms pin wheeling and a ‘HIE’ escaping it, it lands pitifully on the floor. A pause, the whole class bursts into mocking laughter.

Scene set. Enter, Sawada Tsunayoshi.  
\--  
After its purposefully embarrassing display, it’s left mostly alone on the first day. The exceptions are— Sasagawa Kyoko who seems genuinely nice, Kurokawa Hana who is mainly there for Kyoko, and Yamamoto Takeshi who while friendly, seems altogether disinterested. It doesn’t care. Friends were for actual humans. Its sole purpose is to fail and to be bullied. Nothing more, nothing less.

The second day is where it begins to get a little more interesting because of physical education class. It pretends to have practically non-existent stamina and its creators have obviously taken the question of sweating into account as water drips down its face and back. It can see the opinion of the class shifting as it comes in last when running, solidifying as it stumbles through questions and by the end of the day; it knows its path is set. 

A classmate approaches it at the end of the day and forces it to take over his classroom duty. It protests at first, just enough to be normal but weak enough to be overpowered. The pieces begin falling into place after that and by the end of the week, the whole school knows of it as ‘Dame-Tsuna’.

This is the way life works. The weak are devoured and more so, the weak designed to be devoured.  
\--  
It categorizes people into three groups—inactive, active and ally. 

Inactive are the people who are indifferent to the bullying, active are people who bully him and ally are the people who defend him. It carefully notes in its monthly report to its creators that the vast student and teacher population as a whole fall under inactive although some teachers are active. A few groups generally tend towards active and it carefully notes the characteristics of these groups—popular ‘leader’ and lackeys. Its creators will probably find a way to make it a more appealing victim to these groups.

There is no one who is an ‘ally’.  
\--  
Yamamoto is an ‘inactive’. This hardly makes him blameless but the lack of active participation despite his popularity is a small point of interest with it. What it notices is this. Yamamoto Takeshi is obsessed with baseball. Yamamoto Takeshi has friends but none who seem especially close. Yamamoto Takeshi is disinterested in its victimization. For all the girls in the class swoon about how nice Yamamoto Takeshi is, it is of the opinion that he was not very nice at all.

If he were genuinely nice, he would actually be an ‘ally’.

All the popular ‘nice’ people were really just self-absorbed hypocrites in the end. This mutinous thought arose in the midst of its fall as irrelevant classmate number 5 tripped it. Yamamoto Takeshi’s face was very deliberately turned away. Ducking its head under the onslaught of irritatingly malicious laughter, it scowls.

These are the people it loathes, Yamamoto Takeshi and Sasagawa Kyoko. Sasagawa Kyoko’s obliviousness is either real or a very good act. She acts concerned sometimes, when it’s forced to stay back late but in class, her eyes are always fixed on the board. A classmate trips it. Her gaze never wavers. She never calls out. Bitterly, it regrets ever thinking of her as ‘genuinely nice’. 

Yamamoto is odd. His obsession with baseball is clear but after a week, it begins to notice the brief unhappiness that sometimes surfaces on his face when baseball is mentioned. It notices a bit more when Yamamoto approaches it one day for advice of all things. It thinks seriously about this for some reason; take a rest, stop being so fixated. 

“Practice more.” It says instead because well, it is not meant to give such sensible advice (a small part of the advice _might_ be revenge for his indifference). Yamamoto lights up anyway and its spite is momentarily abated. 

It definitely notices when Yamamoto enters the classroom, arm in a sling. (It, however, is steadfastly ignoring any notion of guilt). Yamamoto is… smiling but it has learnt not to trust facial expressions so easily. Yamamoto laughs and jokes as usual. Yamamoto avoids eye contact with it.

Yamamoto is an idiot. Yamamoto deserved it for following stupid advice. It was designed to fail not help.

_Excuses._

Yamamoto slips out of the classroom when he thinks no one is looking.

After a moment, it follows. 

The roof is windy and Yamamoto is contemplating death because of a broken arm. Standing in the doorway, the urge to leave, to just let the natural life cycle of a human take place overwhelms it. But there is nothing natural in forcing death. But there is nothing natural in a failure saving someone.

Yamamoto turns and their eyes meet. There is a dramatic conversation full of baseball and baseball gods and it being an utter failure. It stammers and _it can’t stop being a failure long enough to save a life._

Yamamoto looks disappointed and turns back, one foot raising slightly.

_And what right did he have to look disappointed at Tsuna?_

“DON’T BE AN IDIOT!” He screams and jumps. The floor cracks slightly beneath his foot and there is nothing but Yamamoto’s foot lifting up. The top of the metal fence crushes beneath his grip. His other hand is grasping Yamamoto’s uninjured hand hard enough to bruise but that’s what an idiot like him deserved. Grunting, Tsuna pulls Yamamoto over the fence, releasing his hand as soon as the idiot is steady.

Tsuna feels his processors going haywire and for a moment, the air superheats until his coolers kick in. Thankfully, the whir of his machinery is disguised by the loud wind. Even though, he doesn’t feel physical exertion, Tsuna can't help but pant. 

Yamamoto’s eyes are wide. He’s looking at the metal fence, the cracked floor. Finally, he looks at Tsuna. For all of his light-hearted nature, his eyes are remarkably thoughtful.  
It has been less than two months and Tsuna has absolutely blown his cover. He dented the floor. He crushed a part of the metal fence. Tsuna can’t even fail at failing. 

“You’re right,” Yamamoto says and Tsuna didn’t think that was meant to be possible. 

“I was being an idiot. I didn’t even think of my father…”Yamamoto grimaces at this and Tsuna files that information away if he ever needs to talk someone out of jumping again. At the very least, Yamamoto seems less willing to jump off the roof so Tsuna doesn’t have to worry anymore. Yamamoto smiles softly at him. 

“Thanks Tsuna.” He says, reaching out his uninjured hand to lightly press against Tsuna’s hand. Tsuna nods in reply because he’s never been thanked before. It’s a little overwhelming. They stand like that a while, in what Tsuna assumes is awkward silence. The bell rings and after a pause, they return to class. 

Yamamoto never once stops smiling at him. 

It doesn’t change much. Not really, a week passes and Yamamoto is still distantly friendly. Their eyes meet more often though and Yamamoto’s smile is much warmer than before. Tsuna stops scowling every time he thinks of Yamamoto and he feels a little empty without the spite.

Later, Tsuna types his monthly report to his creators. He has failed all his tests; his schoolmates bully him, although his classmates have lessened the bullying the past week for reasons unknown. It is currently indeterminable on whether he has had an effect on the overall bullying rate. Under _malfunctions_ , he types ‘I saved Yamamoto Takeshi’s life.’ Tsuna pauses because Yamamoto’s smile has been stuck in his head for the past week. Tsuna deletes the sentence.

‘No malfunctions.’ 

He sends the report.


	2. storming away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos/comments/bookmarks. Just want to reiterate Vongola is not mafia. Also, the science stuff is written with a lot of creative licence so forgive me if I screw something up. I just made up what sounded logical and seemed vaguely feasible. Do not trust my science.

Tsuna has begun to notice a pattern.

He reaches school fifteen minutes before the bell rings; the usual class bullies are unusually aggressive. Five minutes before the bell rings, they just _stop_. Fast forward to lunchtime, they only bother him for lunch money if he leaves the classroom.  They don’t always bother him after school but when they do, they seem somewhat paranoid. It’s puzzling and frustrating because his creators will have to be notified soon if this continues and Tsuna doesn’t _want_ to be recalled. This thought makes him pause but he resolutely ignores why.

(It’s almost a relief not being bullied.)

\----

Tsuna is mistaken.

Class bullies 5, 6 and 7 are surrounding him and they look unusually tense. In retrospect, perhaps Tsuna shouldn’t have used the generally isolated staircase but a weird instinct had urged him there. With a start, he realises it’s his programming that’s the culprit. He wasn’t being bullied enough in class and now, he’s an easy target.

“Dame-Tsuna thinks he’s all that, huh,” bully 6 says and shoves his shoulder. Tsuna lets himself get pushed and notes it as the start of the physical bullying, “asking Yamamoto-san, of all people for protection.”

Tsuna is mistaken. Clearly, the bully didn’t just say Yamamoto was protecting him. He hasn’t even had a proper conversation with him since the roof. His silence stretches on even as bully 6 shoves him again. Bully 5 and 7 have a strange pinched look on their faces but Tsuna is too confused to properly connect any links.

“Playing mute won’t help you Dame-Tsuna.” Bully 6 says and there is an awful lot of pent up anger in his words. There’s an expression Tsuna doesn’t recognise on his face— anger, resentment and something twisted in the curve of his scowl.  Tsuna will figure it out late but now...Yamamoto and protection? He’s missing a link. He’s plain mistaken.

“You're wrong.” Tsuna says and that is wrong thing to say (no, right thing because he was _meant_ to be bullied.)

“You're wrong.” Tsuna says again because the anger is sharpening, quick and ugly on bully 6’s face and that is absolutely the right thing to say.

“Who do you think you are.” Bully 6 hisses and his hand lifts up. Tsuna sees it, knows he can avoid it because the hand was moving _so slowly_. He widens his eyes instead and

his eyes are automatically tearing and there is fake blood dribbling from his split lip.

First time drawing blood, he notes even as the bullies look at the blood in…fear? They look afraid of him. No, they're looking down the hallway as if their creators have come to collecting them for being a malfunctioned product.

“Let’s just go.” Bully 5 says and before Tsuna can really act like an appealing victim, they’re gone. He has twenty minutes of lunch left.

\----

He wanders around school a bit, synthetic blood dripping into his mouth. The lip will ‘heal’ in time, it’d be a little easier if he had a plaster though.

And what a coincidence, the nurse’s office.

Tsuna goes in with only a bit of hesitation.  There is a man, scruffy and bored as he flips through some magazine. Without even looking, he waves a hand at Tsuna.

“I only treat girls so go away if you’re a guy.” He says and Namimori middle school definitely needed to improve their hiring standards.

“Can I just have a plaster?” Tsuna says, resisting the urge to scowl. The doctor sighs and grabs a plaster from the table.

“Here.” He says, swivelling his chair around to scowl at Tsuna. He freezes; hand stopping mid action and Tsuna can see his muscles tensing. His eyes flick to the open door and back to Tsuna and he pulls back as if scalded.

“Close the door.” He says.  The strange intensity in his tone makes Tsuna obey without question.

“Lock it.” Tsuna pauses but he is undeniably curious. He locks the door. When he turns back, the doctor is outwardly more relaxed. The shaking hand lighting his cigarette says otherwise.

“Are you Sawada Tsunayoshi?” He asks and Tsuna nods.

“I’m Shamal. Vongola sent me to help you.” _And monitor you_ he says. Tsuna nods and grabs the plaster Shamal hands him. Wiping away the blood, Tsuna awkwardly pastes the plaster.

“How does that work? The bleeding thing.” Shamal asks and there is a complicated twist to his expression. It looks like disgust, a bit, but Tsuna’s not sure why.

“Network of small tubes that act like blood vessels. My skin self-repairs after a while but it complicates the clotting mechanism, the plaster acts as a stopper. I assume they give you some synthetic blood for refill?”

Shamal nods slowly at Tsuna’s words. He looks unsure, lost but also far too speculative for Tsuna’s comfort. Perhaps Tsuna is not beaten up enough? He wants to know how much Shamal will report to his creators—whether Tsuna’s reports are accurate, whether he is actively baiting the bullies, whether he is a failure.

(he must fail, he _must_ )

“If you need any robot help, find me.” Shamal says and turns back to his desk. Tsuna is very well versed in dismissals and so he leaves.

\----

Class has ended and Sasagawa Kyoko is standing in front of him.

“Are you okay, Tsuna-kun?” She asks and Tsuna is very tempted to ask why she would care. It is too easy to be angry though so Tsuna just nods and smiles.

“If you need plasters, you can look for me.” She says and her smile is hesitant, guilty.

“Thank you, Sasagawa-san.” He says and she lets herself be called away by Kurokawa. Immediately, she is replaced by Yamamoto. It feels like a strong repeat of day one barring Kurokawa.

“Tsuna. Are you okay?” Yamamoto’s hand is warm. The concern is very different from day one however and it truly baffles Tsuna.

“Who did this to you?” Yamamoto’s eyes flick down to the corner of Tsuna’s mouth and suddenly, he remembers Yamamoto’s thoughtful gaze on the roof. Tsuna is keenly aware that Yamamoto is not an idiot but he doesn’t know how it, all of this, links up.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees bully 5 lingering by his seat. Involuntarily, his eyes flick towards him.

“I see.” Yamamoto says. There is a grim finality in his words. He spares one more smile at Tsuna before he leaves. Tsuna half expects him to go after bully 5 but Yamamoto just calmly picks up his bag and walks out of the classroom.

Tsuna considers requesting an update on his human interaction manuals because he has never been so confused in his short life.

\----

There are moving trucks outside his apartment block.  When Tsuna gets to his apartment, there are also boxes stacked up outside the previously empty apartment next door. Tsuna contemplates going over to introduce himself for all of a second. Instead, he just enters his apartment. He knows his apartment is strangely minimalistic with only a small dining table set and a sofa in his living room, and a useless bed in his room. Technically, Tsuna can ‘sleep’, in that he closes his eyes and hours pass until he opens them again. It doesn’t serve anything to him though so he rarely ‘sleeps’.

Tsuna finishes his homework badly and there is nothing else to do.

He sits on the sofa and counts the minutes go by. Before the roof incident, this time had passed by quickly and he never had to count anything. Before, there was nothing _wrong_ with the way he chose to pass time. Lately though, it’s begun to feel a little empty.

He continues to count.

\----

When Tsuna gets to class fifteen minutes early as usual, there are no bullies. More accurately, bullies 5, 6 and 7 are there but they are resolutely ignoring his existence. Tsuna is rather frustrated with them because they are acting wrong and if this goes on his creators will blame Tsuna. All in all, Tsuna is in a bad mood. That is, until the transfer student arrives.

The teacher introduces him as Gokudera Hayato and he looks such a stereotypical delinquent that Tsuna marvels at it. From his unnaturally silver-white hair to his uniform, which broke every single uniform rule possible. He was scowling too and there was an aura of anger and dissatisfaction with the world in general. He was _perfect_ as the new bully.

Their eyes meet and Tsuna widens his, pretending to shiver a little. Amazingly, Gokudera snarls as he swaggers towards Tsuna. There is genuine dislike in his eyes and it feels personal. Tsuna can’t help but hunch his shoulders and grip the table. Perhaps, he was too perfect as the new bully. It hits him then that Gokudera was from Italy. Italy where Vongola headquarters were based. Shit. Tsuna feels panic rise in him because if this was a test, Tsuna couldn’t afford to fail it. Tsuna is shaking, just a little and the squeak of fear that escapes him when Gokudera kicks his table is more real than he’d like it to be.

Gokudera pauses and gives him a derisive look. Vaguely, he can hear the girls swooning over Gokudera’s bad boy act. It’s not an act, Tsuna wants to tell them but he can’t find it in him to speak.

“That wasn’t nice.” Yamamoto says and when did move to stand next to Tsuna? His hand is warm and reassuring on Tsuna’s shoulder and when Tsuna looks up, he still has that easygoing grin on his face. The class has gone utterly silent and it is unnerving how friendly Yamamoto looks.

“None of your business.” Gokudera says and he is still derisive. Still unaware, Tsuna thinks and he’s not too sure if this will end well.

“It is my business. Because Tsuna is my friend.” Yamamoto says and that was news to Tsuna. Gokudera snorts and tries to walk forward but Yamamoto takes another step forward in retaliation.

“I don’t like it when people hurt my friends.” There is the same grim finality as yesterday and now, now, Gokudera looks wary. Yamamoto’s hand squeezes Tsuna’s shoulder reassuringly once before letting go. Just like yesterday, Yamamoto spares Tsuna a warm smile before returning to his seat without another word. After a moment, Gokudera walks to his seat.

Tsuna is an _idiot_.

It makes a startling amount of sense. It also makes very little sense. Yamamoto always comes to class after morning practice, five minutes before the bell rings. He stays in class for lunch and sometimes lingers in class until Tsuna leaves. It matches up perfectly. Somehow, for some reason, Yamamoto was protecting Tsuna. His chest hurts just thinking about _why, how and do I want him to stop_

No wait, _how do I get him to stop_

Lunch break comes and Tsuna pulls Yamamoto along before a murderous looking Gokudera can interrupt. His instincts tell him which is the most isolated stairwell and they end up there. Tsuna really doesn’t know how to start this conversation but someone has to.

“Why are you protecting me?” Tsuna asks and from the way Yamamoto almost flinches, it’s not the right question but Tsuna wasn’t made to do anything right so it’s not his fault.

“Because you're my friend.” Yamamoto says and he looks, _like Tsuna baiting a bully,_ vulnerable.

“Since when?” another half flinch.

“The roof? I guess.” It’s so strange. Yamamoto who seems confident in everything refuses to meet his eyes.

“But you don’t even talk to me.” It’s not an accusation but Yamamoto outright flinches.

“I…felt like a hypocrite. I was so self-absorbed I didn’t bother with you at the beginning. I didn’t want you to think that I felt obligated to help you or anything.” Yamamoto says slowly as if he wants to pull the words back in.

“I thought you were amazing when you saved me and you were right. I was being an idiot. I wanted to be friends with a person like that and the more I thought about it, the more I realised it wasn’t right to let bullies carry on. Not just you but other people as well. It’s hard though because the teachers don’t really care and I don’t know who else to help. I was afraid that you disliked me for my earlier treatment and if I were suddenly nice, you’d dislike me more. I just wanted to help.”

The words are coming out in a rush by the end and Yamamoto looks so brittle around the edges that Tsuna can’t breathe. His chest feels strange but in a good way, like his core processors were reaching optimum efficiency. Tsuna felt _warm_.

“I…” Tsuna says and he shouldn’t be doing this, he really shouldn’t but just this once, he promises himself. Just this once.

“I’d like to continue being friends.” He says and when Yamamoto lights up as if Tsuna’s words taped him back together Tsuna can't help but be glad he didn’t fail this. It’s a traitorous thought but just this once.

Just this once.

\---

Later, even as he’s going home, Tsuna cannot stop his lips from twitching into a smile. The warmth emanating from his chest feels so foreign but at the same time, Tsuna never wants it to stop. Stepping out of the lift, he can hear the scrape of a metal against metal. The stacked up boxes are still there and they block his view of the neighbour but Tsuna can see their shadow.

“Hi! I'm your new neighbour Sawada Tsunayoshi.” He calls out and the warmth in his chest is spurring him on to be _more._ The clang of metal against the floor, the sound of shoes scuffing as his neighbour stepped out from behind the boxes and then

Gokudera Hayato’s shocked green eyes meeting his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chances of me updating so regularly are rare and I have exams coming up so whoops. Also, Tsuna and Yamamoto will tbh have a closer relationship in this which will feature later. In the Mukuro arc. Much later. I am so excited for that arc


	3. lingering bruises

 

Quiet little towns like Namimori are mostly peaceful. They're idyllic, full of children allowed to grow and adults without guilt. The artificial intelligence and advanced technology, still new but fast developing, that Vongola has clawed an empire from has yet to swallow the town. Hints of it exist in the flashes of metal 'flesh' and the smooth robotic voices that float from houses but Namimori is still, mostly free.

Shamal will miss it when Vongola conquers.

Idly, he flips through the instruction manual the kids sent him and makes a note to tell them to reduce the ridiculous amount of technical jargon in it. It's headache inducing and treating a human is bad enough, a robot is a whole other level of madness. He's already going mad, what with his stupid student deliberately disobeying him and now they're all going to be in a right mess.

 _Go find your sister,_ he told him,  _her face might make you pass out but she really does love you. You're her brother, she'll protect you,_ he told him and what had the ungrateful, stupid brat done? Follow him to Namimori. Shamal will tear his student a new one when he drops by. In fact, he'll give Hayato a very valid reason to visit the infirmary. A very validly  _painful_  reason.

The door rattles open behind him, shuts and clicks. There is only one student who would lock the door and as Shamal swivels to face it—him? whatever, he—

he drops the instructional manual and instinctively reaches for a cigarette.

Sawada Tsunayoshi looks painfully grotesque. There are bandages clumsily wrapped around his head, mainly covering his left cheek. The flesh peeking through the bandages is horridly swollen and a vivid dark purple. It looks like someone took a bat to his face until the bat  _and_  his face broke. Automatically, Shamal finds himself reaching for an ice pack but catches himself because this was a robot for god's sake.

"I got punched." Sawada says by way of explanation.

" _With a bat?_ " Shamal finds himself checking. Sawada squints and Shamal has officially lost it if even a robot gives him looks.

"No…? By Gokudera Hayato." and forget the infirmary, Shamal was putting Gokudera into the damn hospital. Teach the kid to fight once and he beats an innocent kid—robot, Sawada was a robot and Shamal gives into the temptation of his cigarette. He wonders, he really does if the kids ever considered what it meant by making a hyper-realistic robot. Probably not. Genii, Shamal realized, were often unaware of the simplest of things.

"I don't feel pain so I didn't realize he hit hard enough to rupture my…" Sawada grimaces and gestures empathetically to his swollen face, before carefully pulling off his bandages. For some reason, a chill settles in at the base of his spine. The dissonance he felt when he first met Sawada is manifesting again. Shamal frowns as Sawada continues, oblivious or ignoring his sudden focus.

"Normally, I'd drain the blood and put a plaster but I only noticed this morning when…uh, I only noticed this morning and by then it became like this." He finishes and Shamal is very curious about the obvious deflection of  _when_. Not the time though but he'll remember it.

"Why is it purple?" He asks instead of  _why the hell did Hayato hit you_  because he can guess the second from the gossip he had gleaned from the staff lounge yesterday. Besides, the physiology of faux-human appearances Sawada pulled off was fascinating.

"Something in my skin is supposed to react when 'blood' touches it from the inside, it's supposed to fade to yellow-green after a few days. If I don't drain it fast enough, it pools and kinda swells. Luckily, it didn't spread yet or half my face would be purple. I'm not supposed to bruise easily." He explains as Shamal takes out the necessary equipment. Almost reluctantly, Sawada moves to sit at the chair he pulled out and obligingly holds the bowl he passes over. Grimacing a little at the bizarreness of it all, Shamal holds the scalpel steady and cuts right under where it is most swollen.

Immediately, liquid a bit too bright red to pass off convincingly as blood gushes out and into the bowl, leaving a trail of red-on-purple on Sawada's skin. When the liquid is nothing more than a thin trickle, Shamal pastes a plaster to plug the cut. He watches unashamedly as Sawada places the bowl on the table and grabs a towel to scrub at his face and neck. Fortunately for him, the liquid doesn't appear to stain synthetic skin easily and comes off without water. He still looks terrible though, thin, wide eyes and splotchy dark bruise like a brand.

"Why did Hayato hit you?" He finally asks because Hayato was hot-headed but he wasn't the type to go round punching random people. This seemed…personal.

"We're neighbours." Sawada states flatly and this had to be some sort of twisted conspiracy because there were three cheap apartment blocks with reasonable rent around the school and Hayato chose Sawada's. "He asked me why the hell I was his neighbour and why I wasn't living with my parents."

"Considering what I am, I had to lie. I said something about it being irritating to live with my mother and then…" Sawada shrugs, "I tend to make people angry." He says and there is a forced note of indifference that rings false in the quicksilver dart of his eyes to the door. The chill intensifies. Shamal wants to interrogate, to chase and find out the reason for this chill but that has never been his style so he nods and sighs because there was a reason he didn't treat anyone but girls. The first time in a while he makes an exception and he's in this mess.

"I'll write you an excuse note so just skip class for now." He says as Sawada makes to stand and doesn't miss the sudden stiffening of his spine. Sawada pauses and walks over to the nearest bed. He settles cautiously and just stares at the blank wall, not even bothering to pull the curtain close. He's too tense for Shamal to bother with right now so Shamal goes back to reading the instruction manual.

Half an hour passes when Shamal next looks and Sawada has relaxed incrementally. His fingers are rest loosely on his legs and seem to be tapping in some sort of rhythm. Sawada's mouth is moving a little and Shamal realises he's humming. The chill claws up his spine and Shamal finally understands what it means.

Awareness.

It's been haunting him since yesterday when he first met Sawada. A shadow at the back of his mind, a chill scrabbling up his spine. There is something human in the way Sawada moves but also a strange rigidity, a lingering act of a puppet's movements. Could it be? If yes, did the kids know? By all rights, Shamal should report this to Vongola, even if it's a suspicion.

However, he smirks, stubbing his cigarette out, Vongola had long lost any loyalty he held for it. After all, he was a  _doctor_ and not a spy. First and foremost, do no harm, even if his patient was not technically alive. Shamal grins, more teeth than anything else because Sawada Tsunayoshi has just become infinitely more fascinating.

Perhaps, Sawada Tsunayoshi would even become history.

\----

Namimori Middle School should have higher hiring standards.

Shamal is on his fifth cigarette of the day and he knows the open window will do nothing to chase away the smell seeped into the room. He knows what he smells like, ashes, smoke and haze. It doesn't linger around him like a half-forgotten memory but has long settled into his clothes, his breath, him. It won't go away, not that he's even trying to chase it away. They shouldn't have hired him. They shouldn't have continued hiring him.

And yet, here he is. A breeze blows through the open window, it's going to rain judging from the scent, unapparent in the deceptively clear sky. The bell rang five minutes ago, Shamal stubs out his cigarette.

The door rattles open behind him, shuts and clicks. Footsteps and the tell-tale clink of metal, the thump of a body on the chair next to him.

"Oi." As usual, Hayato sounds annoyed. Shamal rolls his eyes and lazily swivels his chair to face him. The purpling bruise on Hayato's cheek should surprise him but it really doesn't, not with the brutal anger on the kid—Yamamoto's face when he came looking for Sawada earlier. His eyes had narrowed and the affable smile on his face had frozen, crumbled and  _twisted_. His hands had twitched and curled as if they wanted to grip something. Like a bat, and oh, the kid played baseball didn't he?

"Tsuna." He said, and  _wasn't that interesting_ , "Tsuna," he said again as he stepped into the room, "who did this to you?"

"I'm fine, Yamamoto-san." But Sawada's face looked sickly pale despite the light and there was a strange frailty in the way his body rested deathly still. Yamamoto cocked his head to the side, face carefully blank and stepped further into the room.

"Was it Gokudera?" It was question, but at the same time also a statement and Sawada's slight hunch forward, shoulders rising a half-inch, was an answer in itself.

"I see." Shamal half expected the kid to rush out the room and beat his student up immediately but to his surprise, all outward signs of anger simply melted away from Yamamoto. To Sawada's surprise too apparently as the kid was already half off the bed, prepared to chase him down. Yamamoto shrugged and inclined his head at Sawada.

"Wanna go for lunch?" He had asked, smile light and easy on his face but Shamal had seen the tension lining his shoulders. His hands, noticeably, were clenched behind his back. Sawada had looked confused, shooting a wary glance at Shamal before stumbling off the bed to Yamamoto.

When Yamamoto spares him a sharp, almost calculative glance, a sort of premonition settles in Shamal's mind.

And now, Hayato in front of him, grudgingly accepting the ice pack offered.  _Brat_.

"When I taught you how to fight," Shamal begins, enjoying the guilty tense of Hayato's shoulders, "it was to protect and not to instigate fights with innocent civilians." Granted, Sawada was a robot but it was the principle of the matter.

"He's not a civilian." Hayato hisses and there's enough vehemence in it to make Shamal's heart stutter with fear, fear that Hayato might know and if he did, who else? Resisting the urge to reach for a cigarette, Shamal quirks an eyebrow. As always, there is patience in waiting. Hayato shifts nervously but it's quite clear he came here to confront Shamal rather than seek treatment and eventually he stills.

"I just wanted to test Vongola's heir. I didn't expect him to be so  _spoilt_  and weak." Hayato says and Shamal regrets even considering taking on this job. Oh, he had heard the rumours—that Vongola's Young Lion had a hidden son who was being raised to take over, who had travelled to Italy to pay respects to his soon-to-be predecessor but they were so ridiculous, Shamal ignored them after having a good laugh. He hadn't realized they were about Sawada, he hadn't realized that some people like  _his idiot student_  believed them.

Shamal groans and buries his face in his hands. He should have known people were going to misunderstand with a surname like 'Sawada' and now that he thought about it, Sawada looked a lot like the woman in countless photos Iemitsu had shoved at him, loudly proclaiming about his 'lovely wife'. Of course he looked alike considering  _Iemtisu had volunteered a picture of his wife for Sawada's base appearance._

Shamal wants to retire.

"I knew it." Hayato's voice breaks through his meltdown and with dawning horror, Shamal can only watch as Hayato stands up, flinging the ice pack aside. He has that fervent look in his eyes, the kind that only appears when he's ranting about the supernatural.

"I thought it was just a rumour but then you came to Japan to work in a school of all places. You're so protective over him and now, you're not even denying it." Hayato says triumphantly, and before Shamal can even get a word in edgewise, Hayato is already walking away.

"I'll show you. I'll show you he's not worth the title and your time." He hisses, unlocking the door.

"Just wait." Hayato says, pointing a finger at him and then, he's gone, door slamming shut behind him. Always so melodramatic, Shamal thinks exasperatedly, and lights a cigarette with trembling hands.

He's got his work cut out for him. If he's lucky, Vongola will  _stay the hell away_  from Namimori. Considering the whole mess they've gotten themselves into, Shamal is highly doubtful of any sort of luck they supposedly have.

He needs to  _plan_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be sporadic, unfortunately. Thanks for reading!


	4. observational misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments/kudos/etc. , really warms my heart and make me write faster. Have a late Christmas present! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Hayato will never tell anyone this, but he regrets punching Sawada. He’s been trained, been taught how to hurt and harm but the one stipulation for his training had always been _protection_. The anger though, is something he has yet learned to control. He didn’t like Sawada but he didn’t want to hurt him. But then,

“Mama is just so annoying. Always going Tsu-kun this, Tsu-kun that, I wish she would stop nagging so much. So I moved out. Mothers can be so annoying.” Sawada had said so flippantly, so _easily_ as if mothers were something to be taken for granted, as if having someone love you were a pain. The anger had flared like bright sparks, blinding his reasoning and he was moving before there was time to stop and think.

Mothers, it seemed, continue to remain as his weak spot.

Hayato still remembers the feel of Sawada’s skin on his, the way he had gone deathly still, had gone limp, and the pain that burst under his skin. There was a distinct fragility about Sawada and Hayato felt like punching him had shattered something, the beginnings of a bruise bleeding onto his skin hadn’t helped. Sawada was too soft—all wide eyes and awkward angles that made him look…vulnerable. Hayato loathed those who picked on the vulnerable. Perhaps, that was the only reason he didn’t retaliate when Yamamoto punched him.

But now, seeing Sawada for the first time since yesterday, Hayato understood why Yamamoto had punched him. How hard had he hit him for the bruise to look so severe? Sawada had stolen a look at him and flinched ever so slightly, dark purple bruise like a stain on his almost unnaturally pale skin. He looked like a victim and Hayato felt very much like a bully. He had encountered enough bullies to know they were not a position to strive for and disgust coiled at the base of his stomach. It was enough to spur him into moving towards Sawada. Yamamoto, of course, was there like a guard dog and disliked him enough to drop that stupid smile he wore everywhere.

“Sawada,” Hayato began but then Sawada very deliberately turned his head away and there was derision written into every line of his body. Gritting his teeth, Hayato walked out of the classroom before he punched him a second time.

There was something about Sawada that made Hayato so very angry every time he got near him. Sawada always acted so arrogantly, so disdainfully it reminded Hayato of some in Vongola. Those that believed position equated to power and sneered at him for even dreaming of entering Vongola when he was a _bastard_ child. Sawada seemed like the type to go through coasting on the achievements of others, no surprise considering he was probably the next heir of Vongola. Hayato had speculated, considering the rumours of a child suddenly appearing in Vongola’s main headquarters who looked stunningly like a mixture of Vongola’s Young Lion and (apparently) his wife. Sawada even had Young Lion’s surname and it was no secret that if CEDEF were not his, he would have long become the next head.

Then, Shamal had been flown specially to Namimori and that was the last straw. Shamal was _his_ mentor, the only one who had never thought him less for his illegitimate status. Hayato had to see the so-called heir in person but Sawada was laughably weak and no Vongola boss could ever be weak. Sawada was rude, disrespectful, and completely undeserving _of Shamal’s care of friendship of his mother_ of his position.

But there were other ways aside of violence to prove Sawada’s undesirability and for them to work out, Hayato needed to observe.

\----

Hayato regrets.

Sawada is not only boring but _ridiculously_ incompetent. The teachers don’t like him. He’s failing. He trips a lot. No charisma, leadership abilities or any form of inspiring aura that would qualify him for heir.

That is literally all there is to Sawada.

Moreover, with Yamamoto constantly sticking to Sawada—lunch, after school, even _bathroom breaks_ , Hayato has almost no chance to observe Sawada one-on-one. What if Yamamoto is compromising the data in anyway? Hayato needs his observation to be perfect if he wants to present a strong case.

A few more days of this and Hayato is ready to present his case without sufficient data anyway.

And then, he saw his chance. Sawada was eyeing Yamamoto and was slowly inching his chair away from the table. By the time Yamamoto had been drawn into conversation by another classmate, Sawada’s chair was away from his desk. Yamamoto laughed at something the classmate said and, with surprising grace, Sawada slipped out of his chair and walked casually out of the door. After a moment, Hayato followed.

Some of the gracefulness lingered in Sawada’s walk and it was…interesting because this was so far the most competent Sawada seemed. He was walking with purpose and at such a fast pace Hayato wondered if he was meeting someone. The corridor was empty but Hayato could hear voices in the distance, as they rounded the corner into a more crowded hallway, the change that overcame Sawada was _fascinating._ Gone was the smooth walk (almost like gliding in fact) and instead, he seemed burden by the mere presence of other people. Sawada hunched slightly, and walked like he was afraid of the very air itself. Everything about him screamed ‘pathetic’ and one small, dark corner of Hayato’s mind pointed out he looked like _prey_.

Odd.

Suddenly, Sawada tensed. Hayato followed his wary gaze towards two schoolmates standing by the window. Their faces sparked a faint memory and oh yes, they were his classmates. They shared a look and moved purposefully towards Sawada. Oddly enough, Sawada shrunk into himself more but let himself be herded by them. There was something wrong with this picture. One of them had a firm hold on Sawada’s elbow, too firm in fact, and the other was pressed closely to Sawada’s other side. Backs tensed but forced into a false state of relaxation, eyes flicking back and forth warily, they looked like thieves stealing something important. Yamamoto’s eyes, angry and ruthless, flash through his mind and Hayato _knows_ Sawada is being dragged (yes, dragged rather than led) to somewhere No Good.

Hayato slows down so they won’t detect him and follows leisurely from afar. The corridors are less and less empty and eventually, they duck into a stairwell. Stairwells have good acoustics so when Hayato sees them head down a flight of stairs, he positions himself at the top, just out of sight. The voices are slightly muffled but he can still hear them loud and clear.

“Stop taking advantage of Yamamoto’s kindness. Just because he was nice to you once doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”

“But I'm not taking advantage, he’s my frie—.”

“Shut up! You don’t have friends Dame-Tsuna. Yamamoto just pities you.”

“Yeah, as if someone like you can be friends with Yamamoto.” Silence and Hayato feels very, very cold. He thought that maybe it was just classmates having a disagreement, just more reasons for Why Sawada Cannot Be a Vongola Boss (can’t even get along with his classmates, won’t be able to lead an organization) but the way they're talking… The words may change but Hayato has heard the same _anger/disdain/irritation_ tone over and over again.

A slow inhale, loud in the silence, Hayato bizarrely recognises it Sawada’s and then

“You’re jealous.” He sounds awed. Hayato can’t believe he said that, does Sawada have no sense of self-preservation?

“WHY YOU—”A choked off shout and the sounds of scuffling. Hayato is already running down the stairs, he may not like Sawada but he will never stand for _bullying_. Sawada is pinned to the wall, eyes wide and afraid just like…just like the last time Hayato punched him. Damn it.

Words are wasted on scum like this ( _like you)_ and Hayato easily muscles his way through the classmate trying to block him. Easily, he grabs the guy pinning Sawada, spins him and knees him in the gut. Just hard enough to bruise maybe but not enough to make him vomit. He’s not supposed to injure civilians too badly (at all actually) so he lets him go. The bully bends over in half and his friend hurries over to support him. Weak.

“I see you touch Sawada one more time and I’ll break your hand.” He says. The bullies nod and hurriedly limp away although the one he kneed still bothers to shoot him a glare. Finally, when they’re out of sight and Hayato can no longer hear their footsteps, he turns back to Sawada. Who is still pressed against the wall and watching him with wary eyes.

“You're a disgrace to Vongola.” Sawada’s eyes widen at the mention of Vongola, confirming Hayato’s suspicions.

“The next Vongola boss being so weak is unheard of.” He wants to sound triumphant because ‘Here, I’ve unveiled your secret!’ is what he’s doing but Hayato just feels tired.

“…I’m not?” Sawada says, brows furrowed and steps cautiously towards Hayato.

“I’m not the next Vongola boss.” Sawada repeats and he has to be lying, the clues don’t add up otherwise.

“But Sawada Iemitsu is your father!” Here Sawada falters and stares intently at him.

“Sawada Iemitsu did contribute to my creation but…Vongola is interested in me because the circumstances of my creation are relevant to them.”

He didn’t call Sawada Iemitsu his father. The awkward phrasing feels familiar somehow, it reminds him of _just because he raised me doesn’t mean he's my father_ himself. Oh. Could it be?

“What about Sawada Nana?”  A long pause and Sawada ducks his head down.

“She knows briefly of me but isn’t interested in raising me.”

“Then what about your mother?” Here is the question, the question that will fully answer his suspicions.

“…I have no mother that I know of.” It feels like a physical blow to Hayato’s heart and he has never felt this guilty in his life.  A surge of sympathy swells in him and carefully, he moves closer to Sawada.

“You lied about why you were living alone?” Sawada is still looking down but he looks up at the sudden proximity of Hayato’s voice. He freezes at how close they are but doesn’t move away and Hayato counts it in his favour.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone but since you’re from Vongola.” Sawada shrugs and Hayato nods encouragingly even though he’s technically, not really a part of Vongola. Yet.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Cautiously, he places a hand at Sawada’s elbow and smiles when Sawada stares at him with shock. Gokudera Hayato will never be a bully and he will make up for his slip in every way possible. Later, he will apologize and even explain (haltingly and almost shyly) that he was trying to test Sawada as the next boss. Later, he will apologize even more profusely under Yamamoto’s suspicious eyes. Later, he will tentatively offer to walk Sawada home and Sawada will quietly accept. But for now,

“Let’s get you back to class.” He has to talk to Shamal.

\----

“Why didn’t you tell me Sawada was Iemitsu’s illegitimate son.”  Shamal chokes and Hayato can’t help but roll his eyes. So melodramatic.

“He’s not, Hayato, I think you’ve got the wrong idea.” Shamal reaches out his hands and shakes them wildly, as if trying to dispel what’s obviously the truth. Hayato is a genius after all. Shamal is still sputtering denials, giving vague excuses that wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a genius like him. Perhaps, Vongola? That’d make more sense. They’re probably trying to hide their possible assets, especially from _outsiders_ like him. He feels his mood grow sombre and a rancid taste lingers at the back of his mouth. Outsider. That’s what he ever is these days—to his ‘family’, to Vongola, and now…to Namimori. The rancid taste grows stronger, it brings to mind Bianchi’s poison cooking and a fuzzy image of a mocking crowd. His lips twitch. Hayato wants a cigarette badly, anything to drown the aftertaste of his childhood.

“Hayato?” Shamal looks almost concerned, it’s disconcerting, uncomfortable.

“If you had told me he was a civilian, I wouldn’t have hurt him.” A weak excuse but true, also a diversion from questioning. Win-win. Shamal still looks too almost concerned though and Hayato has learned to cut his losses before he’s devoured. He’s pretty much figured everything to know about Sawada anyway, no need to unnecessarily dig.

“I'm going back to class now. See ya.” He leaves before Shamal can get another word in and that’s perfectly fine with him.

First things first, there are wrongs he need to right. And then….

a walk home with Sawada, with Yamamoto tagging along as his snarling guard dog. He probably deserves it but still.

It’s gonna be a long, long day ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, this chapter is alternatively titled STOP GOKUDERA'S MISUNDERSTANDING 2K15 for obvious reasons but my angry storm bb is so hard to write. I just imagine him for be massively long-winded in his head because he overthink and analyses everything why bb. The next chapter will probably be a return to our regularly scheduled angsty robot program (although I wrote a section for Yamamoto's internal monologue already lol)


End file.
